Fandom High Dormitories

Chuck was extremely glad to find to wake up to find the school gremlin-free (aside from the usual ones, that is) and took advantage of the quiet and being up earlyish by eating in the common room for once. He grabbed a bowl of cereal since that was the extent of his culinary abilities and settled down in front of the TV.

Was there anything on during the day that didn't involve a bunch of women crying over some book Oprah recommended?

[Open of course]

Chuck was bored and tired of hanging around his room so when he finally got out of bed on Friday he decided to get out for a bit. Not to a common room since his post-Thanksgiving hangover wasn't allowing for him to be quite that social at the moment, but he knew he could handle being out on the roof for a bit. It was cold, but nothing Chuck couldn't handle. The scarf did more than make him look fantastic, you know.

[Oooopen]

There were several ways to indicate fall was upon you. Changing leaves, of course, would be the obvious one. You could look at a calendar, which was just a boring way to do it. Or you could check to see if Chuck Bass was wearing his trademark scarf. Which he was. It truly was the greatest time of the year.

Yep, scarf around his neck and a joint in one hand, Chuck was laid back in a chair reading Les Liaisons dangereuses for about the tenth time. It was the only way he could keep his French in check without, you know, actually going to France.

[Look, it was nippy when I went to go get the mail earlier. I declare it fall. Post is open, of course]

As much as he hated being that guy who did work in public, Chuck found that his room had too much porn too many distractions to really get anything done. And he really had to get stuff done. That parents thingamawhatsit was in a few weeks and Chuck had to make sure his bars would be something worth showing his father. So he took his laptop with him to the common room and settled down on the couch.

Well he couldn't work without background noise so he started channel surfing. The first thing that came up was that stupid Jonas Brothers show. As if he was watching that. So he went up a channel. The Werewolf Journals. Chuck was fairly sure he needed to be high to enjoy that.

Another channel. The Valley. Uh, no, not watching that.

Another one. Dusk. Not that either, thank you.

And another one. Rumor Gal. Oh hell no.

At that point Chuck threw the remote against the couch and groaned. "Great, I get the TV that has been possessed by a thirteen year old girl."

[I don't even know. CR post is open, of course]

Good deed done for the day (and boy did he hope Merlin loved his new name), Chuck decided to do something he hadn't done for a while and go up to the roof. He shouldn't have been slacking. It was his roof, after all. If he didn't make constant appearances then people would get the idea that it was their roof. And that just wasn't true.

Chuck was lounged back against the edge of the roof and was watching the sun go down. It's be all poetic and stuff if he wasn't lighting up a joint at the same time.

[The roof is open, of course]

Chuck had spent the early morning working (yes, working) and, after taking a break to--ahem--make use of the mental imagery Blair had given him yesterday, he felt the need to add to chill out and relax even more. Naturally this consisted of going up to the roof and getting high.

Come on, people, you know the drill by now.

[Chuck's here to get badgerface'd at but the roof is open, of course]

Chuck had some time to kill before Emmett dragged him off to do radio so he decided to hang out in the common room to make himself easily available. He didn't want to be in his room when that happened; Emmett had the habit of knocking so hard that the door almost came off the hinges. Chuck decided to make himself comfortable while waiting and he had ordered some Chinese food and was now poking at lo mein while watching a movie.

It was really unfair that the chubby kid from this movie ended up with Rebecca Romijn.

[I'm bored omg. And Stand By Me is really on CMT right now fyi]

Popcorn...probably wasn't an acceptable breakfast food but it was the one thing Chuck could make without catching on fire (and even then he came close sometimes) and he was Chuck Bass, he could eat whatever the hell he wanted to in the mornings. And he could also drink scotch too. So there.

Breakfast sitting by him on the couch, the only thing Chuck had to worry about was finding something decent on TV. This was proving to be harder than he anticipated. Stupid lame ass Sunday TV lineups. The only thing that was on was Golden Girls. Which he totally didn't like. Really.

[Post is open, of course. Sweet Zefron, Golden Girls is on all day today on the Hallmark channel]

Chuck didn't know who started the campfire outside his cabin but he was glad that someone did. He was capable of working a lighter but that whole Boy Scout-y wood and newspaper in the optimal fire starting position thing was lost on him. So when people did the hard stuff for him he was appreciative. Silently appreciative. He wasn't about to be thanking people out loud.

Now he was sitting back against a log with a joint in his hand and was debating going back inside the cabin to grab marshmallows. Maybe after the munchies set in.

[Open! You will keep me entertained whilst I wait for the Gossip Girl finale]

Chuck was up really freaking early considering how late he had stayed out last night. Freaking ridiculous. He would have slept in later but he was bombarded by weird-ass dreams that he really didn't care to analyze. Since sleep wasn't on the horizon any time soon, he decided to go the common room and see if there was anyone to bother. When it looked like he was alone, he raided the pantry for a bit to grab something that would go well with his scotch (he came up with Dunkaroos) and then sprawled out on the couch to find something on TV.

Ugh, there was a Rumor Gal marathon on. No thank you. He'd go back if he was desperate but he was not watching that crap. It was so unrealistic.

[Open, of course]

Chuck...didn't cook breakfast. Or couldn't, rather. He could make cereal, yes, and he was fairly sure toast was within his capabilities but anything involving a the stove or a microwave for an extended period of time was out of the question. The stove because he'd most likely catch whatever he was attempting to make on fire. The microwave because, ew, who the hell ate stuff that came out of a microwave? It was disgusting.

Oh, save for popcorn. And bagel bites.

He wasn't much in the mood for cereal this morning so he was sitting on the kitchen counter, peeling an orange (yes, he could do that without messing up) and watching the TV from afar, hoping he could push someone into cooking for him. He'd like pancakes, thank you. Preferably ones with chocolate chips in them.

[Common room is open, of course]

Everyone was depressed and that, in turn, was making Chuck depressed. Wait, no. Not depressed. Freaking annoyed. Oh boo freaking hoo, you had to say goodbye to people you had only known for three days. It was so irritating having everyone upset over the same thing. Well, except, for some people on the third floor who were apparently upset for other reasons when he walked by.

He didn't want to know. He really, really didn't want to know.

So, in attempt to get away from the emo, he (ironically) when up to the roof of emo to smoke. And not brood. Because he didn't miss his stupid kids. Nope. This was not brooding. This was staring intently.

[omg I'm trying to avoid work. open roof is open, of course]

Contrary to popular belief, Chuck was not an idiot. At least he wasn't the type of idiot who would actually go out once he heard shit about zombies on the radio. No, he'd save that for the dumbasses here than fancied themselves heroes. He'd stay indoors and not get eaten, thank you very much. Call him selfish, a coward, whatever. He wasn't getting himself killed. Making him smarter than you.

Now he was proving his smarts by showing that he could survive on his own without calling in for food. He was proving this by making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich by himself. Yeah, bread, peanut butter, knife, jelly. The whole deal.

He still had time to cut off his hand so try not to get too excited.

[The common room is oh-so-open]